Unknowingly Destroying The Evidence
by Vicky-V
Summary: If only the washerwomen knew how some of the stains they scrubbed away occured. The rest of Camelot would be coming to them for gossip for months. ArthurxGwenxLancelotxMerlinxMorgana. 1x05 spoilers. Oneshot.


**Pairing:**

**Notes:** PG-13 for poly, slash, femmeslash, slight sexual content and spoilers for 1x05

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in connection with BBC's Merlin, nor do I make any money writing this fanfiction.

xxx

**(Unknowingly) Destroying The Evidence**

Between passing on any type of gossip they heard from the kitchens or the market, the washerwomen always seemed to talk about the same thing. If one of them happened to be new or there happened to be something particularly interesting, they would exclaim about the dirty marks they were expected to wash off an item of clothing. But most of the time they just muttered darkly about it to themselves.

The thing about stains was they happened. It was one of the few things which connected practically every person of every class together. How some of the stains happened could be anybodies guess.

Prince Arthur was fairly easy to figure out. He was very dedicated to his sword work and oversaw the final tests for the knighthood and the training himself. In his constant preparation of himself and his men for the battlefield, a few stains here and there were to be expected.

Really, it was Merlin who was supposed to clean them. Sometimes he did, but often he dropped off Prince Arthur's clothes and was gone again, quickly before any objections could be raised. A few of the washerwomen were beginning to suspect that Merlin was slipping a few of his own garments in the piles of clothing he left. As for the stains on the clothes they suspected to be his, Merlin's job had him running back and forth for most of the day, cleaning and sometimes acting as a grouchy moving target during Prince Arthur's training.

Lady Morgana was a different case. Usually there were hardly any blemishes on her clothes at all, save for perhaps a slight smudge of dust where she had passed by the marketplace or a smear of grime around the hem of her skirt should she have suddenly been caught in the rain. But every now and again, Morgana would wear a pair of breeches and a tunic and exchange blows with Prince Arthur in a mock battle. That and when she trained, (nobody knew when or where, although some had seen her strolling in the direction of the forest with just her maidservant for company), was when her clothes came to them in a bit more of a state. But the washerwomen never really minded, because those dirty clothes tended to come with gossip they would excitedly exchange for hours about how Lady Morgana and knocked Prince Arthur to the ground, although he would deny it with a dark frown.

Lady Morgana's maidservant, (Gwen, such a sweet girl), was also a different case. When she came to drop of Morgana's clothes she at least _asked_, saying she would but there were so many other things she had to do. That was why they would gladly take the load from her. Sometimes they took Gwen's own clothing too and would wash out the stains left from her father's workshop. They knew she helped him sometimes and liked to indulge in the blacksmith's worktop. It was said amongst the washerwomen that the sword Lady Morgana used to defeat Prince Arthur was one Gwen had made.

There was a man who was in training for the knighthood who had been the subject of much talk lately. He had just come out of nowhere, or so it seemed, and he was strangely interesting. Very good looking too. Lancelot, wasn't it? Yes, that's what Elsa had heard. They didn't know if any of his belongings had passed through their hands yet, but were sure they may well do, if they hadn't already. Some of them had seen him training, with Prince Arthur himself no less, and those mock fights seemed rather fierce and sometimes included Lancelot on the ground.

If any of those washerwomen could see _how_ some of those stains happened, the rest of Camelot would be coming to them as a source of gossip for months. For example, if they only knew how some of the grass stains which they bent over to scrub away happened. The most they knew was that Prince Arthur had gone for a hunt. That became the subject of talk for an afternoon, firstly because Lady Morgana had donned her breeches and tunic and gone with him. Secondly because it turned out afterwards that King Uther didn't approve of his only son going into the forest to hunt without a single knight accompanying him, (Lancelot was just in training, he didn't count), when they all knew there was a dangerous beast wandering the country, (dragging along _Morgana_, for goodness sake, what if something had happened?).

Because Prince Arthur went, Merlin also had to go to carry the arrows and any kills speared on them. Lady Morgana accompanying them was strange because it was known that she disapproved of killing for sport. As she went, it was only natural for Gwen to follow, like Lady Morgana's softly-smiling shadow. Lancelot went with them, which was assumed to be part of his training. So that he could see how tracking and battle in the forest was supposed to be done.

The washerwomen didn't know that the large smears of dirt on the elbows of Prince Arthur's jacket where from when Morgana had managed to get him on the ground and put enough weight on his chest to hold him down. Merlin had taken advantage of the situation, pulling at Arthur's clothing and pushing his hands up underneath his shirt. He knew exactly where to touch and exactly what to do in order to make Arthur squirm and yelp; press hard on his nipples, lightly at that place low on his stomach, then there was that spot right _there_ on his neck. The knees of Merlin's breeches were even heavier with stuck dirt and dark grass stains where he had slotted beside Morgana to straddle Arthur. Then Morgana pulled him up and pressed their lips together, until Merlin reached around to place his hand on the small of her back and smudge it with the dirt on his fingers. Her weight shifted from Arthur and into him, pushing Merlin onto the ground. Arthur managed to wriggle out from underneath them and took each and every opportunity to get his own back on Merlin, nipping at his ears and deliberately bringing his touches so _close_ to where Merlin wanted them to be, then pulling away again. By the time Merlin was let up the back of his jacket was covered in green streaks and dirt.

Neither of them knew exactly how, but Lancelot managed to get dragged in. It was guessed that Arthur had pulled him down because by the time Merlin and Morgana realised, having been caught up with each other for a while, that was who Lancelot was underneath. Arthur rolled his hips down, grinding himself against Lancelot and pushing him into the ground as he writhed upon it.

When Gwen came in at around the same time, it was the bottom of her skirt which became streaked with grass stains because she often stayed on top of people. She was in Morgana's lap with her hips bucking as her mistress' fingers pushed underneath her clothes and teased all over her skin. Merlin was at her back with his arms around her waist and his breath hot against her ear and neck. After a while she shifted, sliding herself partly onto Lancelot to draw him in a little more, once Arthur finally let him up, and keep him there, letting him know that he was a part of this now. When he bent his head to nuzzle and lick at her neck, Arthur leaned over him to kiss her. Once she felt brave enough, she kissed him back and watched him smile as he reached out to tangle his fingers in her hair.

When they came back there was no kill with them. But there was a dangerous beast roaming around somewhere, so people guessed it must have scared off all the good pray. If that was the case, it was just good that Prince Arthur, Lady Morgana and the others came back completely unscathed, except for some grass stains and dirt marks on their clothing. That was what the washerwomen said amongst themselves. Perhaps they were perusing something big and it gave them a good run-around before managing to get away. Shame

If only they knew.

_**END**_


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